


A Masquerade to Remember

by tmwillson3



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-06
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-07-07 16:41:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15912192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmwillson3/pseuds/tmwillson3
Summary: Rey attended the Earl of Yavin's fortnightly masquerade parties for one reason: to steal enough off the rich people in attendance to pay off her family's debts. What she doesn't expect is a man in black watching and complimenting her on her skills in stealing. As they strike up an unlikely friendship, he wants to know her outside of the parties. Lucky for her, neither of them are what they seem.





	A Masquerade to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Star Wars or anything else I reference. There was this fantastic photo manip of Rey and Ben in period clothes, and I couldn't stop myself. The image was used as a part of Drabble Me This in the Reylo Fic Recs group on Facebook. The image was created by obiwanisbae, who can be found on tumblr! Check her out!
> 
> I love Regency times, and I love masquerade parties. This story was inevitable. I hope you enjoy it!

Kriffing rich people,” murmured Rey in resignation as she stood at the door to Lord Dameron’s masquerade party.

 

Somehow, every fortnight, the Earl of Yavin and his wife hosted an extravagant party with fine food and only the most interesting guests.

 

Rey had been invited because she was good friends with Finn, and she needed the money desperately. Finn had risen above his station and life in the streets, unlike her. She had helped him when he needed it, and now he was helping her.

 

She stared in awe at the fine silks and handwoven tapestries on display, imagining how long she could live off of one. 

 

And the sheer excess in some of the dresses….

 

Such finery could feed her friends for a year. Hopefully their pockets and jewelry could, too. It was the only reason she agreed to go.

 

As she took stock of her surroundings and admired the Earl’s sumptuous home, she carefully evaluated which people were likely to have something worthwhile. 

 

After some time, she “accidentally” bumped into several ladies, and they never noticed that they lost their jewelry.

 

She used her honed pickpocket skills to pass by several men, and avoided the eyes of any unsavory or inebriated gentleman, if they could be called such.

 

But one man stood apart from the crowd always. As soon as she entered the room, her eyes had been drawn to him, the figure in black. Black feathers covered his crow-shaped mask, and it complemented his dark, expressive eyes. His serious gaze sent shivers down her spine.

 

His eyes never seemed to leave her unless someone accosted him. She tried not to do anything while he watched, but it was hard. He was always watching. 

 

After two hours at the party, having barely talked to anyone but gained much in her dress and its hidden, handmade pockets, she made her way out.

 

She was almost to the door when a strong, large hand grabbed her wrist.

 

“Excuse me, my lady, but may I join you?” asked a low voice.

 

She gulped as the voice and glove sent goosebumps along her bare skin. Slowly, she turned around and found the gentleman that had been eyeing her all evening.

 

“I'm afraid that I'm feeling a slight headache. I'm quite warm,” she lied quickly. 

 

Too quickly.

 

“I personally know the owner of this estate. I'm sure his wife would be happy to fetch you some smelling salts and allow you to rest a quarter hour upon a settee,” he said just as smoothly, earnestly pulling her away from the door. 

 

When they reached the main room, he bowed and said, “My friends call me Kylo.”

 

“Kira,” she said with a slight curtsy. “You're very kind, Kylo, but I really think I ought to go,” she insisted, using her other hand to try to release his.

 

He, however, refused to budge. His eyes twinkled as he stared more closely at her clothes.

 

“Besides,” she continued, hoping to scare him off,“ aren't the  _ gentlemen  _ here supposed to respect a lady's wishes when she says no?”

 

“But shouldn't  _ ladies  _ also not steal items from other guests and hide them in their dress?” he replied sharply, giving her a hard look.

 

Rey knew she had been caught. Blushing slightly, she said indignantly, “If I were a lady-"

 

“You most certainly are. You've managed to spend the least amount on a dress, considering how you've managed to reuse all of your older gowns to create this masterpiece,” he said with growing amusement and affection. 

 

Like everything in regard to Rey, her dress was made of scavenged parts put together in an ingenious way to make her seem well-off, when she was anything but. 

 

The main part of the dress was three seasons old, but it was the roomiest, thereby making it easy to create pockets in it. It was her favorite gown by far.

 

He tugged her toward the back of the home and offered an arm.

 

“Please, accompany me to the gardens. I don't believe you've seen them yet, and they're quite…. pretty, in their own way. You can cool off outside quite nicely.”

 

“Thank you, sir,” she replied as she took his proffered arm. 

 

She might as well humor him until she found out what he wanted. He hadn't stopped her before, so he clearly didn't care if she did.

 

They walked in silence.

 

When they reached a bench in the gardens, she sat, and he leaned against a marble railing. She couldn't imagine how cold the unforgiving, white stone was, as compared to the wrought iron and cushion she had.

 

They continued in their awkward silence, each taking more time to look at the other, rather than the fine flowers and well-groomed bushes that lined the walkway from the house to the gardens.

 

She was determined not to speak first. She kept hoping he would just leave her if she stayed silent and was uninteresting.

 

Alas, he was too curious.

 

“Is this your first time at one of these parties?” he asked lightly, crossing his ankles.

 

“Yes, it is,” she answered honestly.

 

“And what do you think of it?”

 

“I think it's the most excessive waste of money and food I've ever seen,” she said acidly. “Why must they flaunt it about so?”

 

“I've asked my friends that as well. They never give me a satisfactory explanation,” he said just as honestly before moving to sit beside her.

 

“I take it you've been here a number of times? Why come if you only stay on the edges of the crowd and never talk to others?” she asked, hoping to make him uncomfortable. 

 

That seemed to put him even more at ease as he leaned in.

 

“I've been here more times than I can count, yes. However, this party affords me one thing that my normal life cannot: complete anonymity.”

 

“So you dislike crowds and people as much as I do?” she asked curiously, turning toward him and recognizing a kindred spirit.

 

She had grown up poor and obscure. She had learned to thrive in it. Her recent friends of the last few years were an abnormality in her life.

 

She would do anything to help them.

 

“Yes, I dislike the crowds, but especially the affectations and airs people put on. It's annoying. I hate lies, and these airs are just another facade or mask,” he said passionately, pointing to his own.

 

She nodded in understanding. 

 

“Now, I confess that I did have a particular reason for asking you out here,” he said, his voice growing softer.

 

“Which is?” she asked, a hint of concern tinting her voice.

 

“How on earth did you manage to steal a bracelet from Viscount Hux’s wife? I've been trying for years to do it, and I've never seen it so well-executed before.”

 

She stared in open-mouthed amazement as he smiled a crooked half-smile.

 

“While I don't generally approve of stealing, you've managed to target those who won't miss it or deserve it,” he said with a rueful smile. “And I'm really not in a place to say anything since my hands aren't clean.”

 

“So that's why gentlemen wear gloves,” she replied glibly.

 

He chuckled and then said earnestly, “Though I'm still quite serious. You must tell me your methods. I promise I'll share mine. We're alone out here. Tell me  _ everything.” _

 

It was hard to say no to such a request. For the next hour, they discussed the finer points of what they did before Rey became too cold.

 

Then, he led her inside the giant home for a dance and some refreshments. The way he saw it, if they went through the trouble of setting out the food, then it was only right to eat it.

 

Rey loved everything she tried, and he enjoyed watching her enthusiasm for the fine pastries. 

 

“And,” said the mystery gentleman, “if your pockets still have space, you could take some food home with you.”

 

She stared at him as though he had given her the moon and stars. 

 

She resisted dancing with him at first, but he was persistent. Every smile and charming word, or odd story about former parties, further convinced her to stay longer with him.

 

She had never enjoyed parties all that much. This she loved.

 

When she agreed to dance, he looked triumphant. 

 

“I'm not your average dancer,” she cautioned him. “I'm quite enthusiastic.”

 

“Then all the better for me,” he said with a smile.

 

As the music for a reel started, Rey found herself swept into the music in a way she never had been before. Each contact with him felt as though lightning ran through their fingertips, making her come alive anew. He was just as enthusiastic a dancer, and his warm eyes and contagious grin made her forget about everything else. 

 

When the dance finished, he convinced her to stay for one more dance, which led to three more after that.

 

Only after that did she have to leave, as she was now quite worn out. She even managed to take a few more scrumptious pieces of food with her.

 

“Promise me you'll return for the next party?” he pleaded with her at the door. “I want to practice what you've taught me and show you.”

 

“As long as you agree to dance with me at least once,” she returned with a knowing smile.

 

“At least three times,” he muttered before bending over her bare hand (he removed the glove) and kissing it.

 

As he pulled up and away, his eyes never left hers. He helped her put on her threadbare coat in an effort to stay together a little longer. They kept walking backwards until she was out the door, whereupon the doorman promptly shut the door in their faces.

 

He kept her glove.

 

The next party was a grand success. He showed much improvement, and he had new ideas of things for her to try on guests. It turned into a learning session as they giggled on the edges of the crowd, picking out patrons based on how ridiculous their outfits were.

 

They danced together for the other half of the night. When she left, she discovered that he had deposited a new pair of silk gloves in one of her pockets. 

 

Three months went by in quick succession, each party leaving Rey feeling increasingly emptier when she left. 

 

It was all his fault. He kept looking at her as though she were the only person in the room. As an equal and partner. Every word and story he told captivated her, and he danced with her as though they were married, in love.

 

She realized she was falling for him when he left a pair of brass knuckles in her pockets.  She had confided to him at the previous party that she often spent a lot of time in the less than savory parts of London.

 

Between that and their increasingly intimate conversations and looks shared while dancing, she feared the day that he tried to find out the truth about her.

 

During the fourth month, he began to ask more pointed questions about her life. Why she did certain things, and if she was willing to consider changing her life if the opportunity for improvement came along.

 

In the fifth month, he began asking her if they could meet outside of the parties. She always refused.

 

By the sixth month, he was becoming desperate. She was afraid to go, but not seeing him put her in a worse mood. Additionally, Plutt was putting more pressure on her to pay off the rest of her debts, now that she seemed to be able to pay others off.

 

The kids were free, at least. They wouldn't have to have the life she did. They had enough to go learn to be a hired hand. With this last party, she would be able to take back her life.

 

She wouldn't have to go to another if she didn't want to. If he kept asking her to reveal herself, then she just might.

 

The shame of telling him who she was made her weak.

 

The last party went well at first. They smiled and chatted, occasionally walking through the crowds to achieve what Rey wanted to do.

 

When she knew she had just enough to pay everything off and cover a month of expenses, she stopped.

 

He seemed to realize something momentous was happening, based on the radiant grin on her face.

 

He led her to a back room. 

 

He had never done that before.

 

After he closed the door behind them, he locked it. Then, he knelt down in front of her, his eyes curious and hopeful. 

 

“What's your real first name?” he asked,  his hands grasping hers.

 

“I, I-”

 

“Please,” he begged. “I need to know. Mine is Ben.”

 

She gasped. She couldn't believe he had actually admitted it. Something was wrong.

 

When she was able to close her mouth and think a coherent thought, she acknowledged him.

 

“Thank you, Ben, but why are you asking now?”

 

“Isn't it obvious?” he asked. “Something has changed with you. I'm not sure what, but I keep hoping that it means you're more open to my overtures now.”

 

He watched her face turn white under the emerald green mask she wore. She only owned two masks, the original blue one she first wore, and this green one that he had given her.

 

She was like him in that respect, only wearing two masks in all their interactions. His were black and red.

 

“While my circumstances have changed, I don't believe I could ever accept your overtures,” she said sadly, looking away from him.

 

He took off his gloves and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him.

 

“Why? Am I too hideous? Are you afraid that I'll tell your secrets?”

 

For a moment, she realized that he could hold that over her head if he was more vindictive. Thankfully, he was not like that at all. He had quick hands, and an even quicker fuse for people like Viscount Hux, but he was good at finding out her secrets. And not betraying them.

 

“I doubt that you would do that to me, and no, you're everything I've ever wanted in a husband,” she said, trying to push his hands away.

 

However, the only thing she managed to do was find her hands captured by his.

 

“Then why deny what we both want? I want to marry you, desperately. I'm tired of this game we play. I want to spend every waking hour in your presence, not just a few hours every fortnight.”

 

“Once you knew what and who I was, you wouldn't want me. I'd embarrass you. I may not know who you are, but I know you're just as well off as the Earl. Probably more so since you hold yourself so well,” she said, saying her theory out loud at last.

 

He smiled.

 

“You're right. I'm a Marquess, but titles and money aren't everything. I've had them all my life, and I've never felt so alone. With you, everything is different. Better somehow because you shed light into my otherwise dreary existence.”

 

“You'd be ruined with me,” she said quickly as she saw him pull at his mask.

 

“You're wrong, and I'll prove it.”

 

He took off his mask, making her gasp. 

 

She recognized that face. She had seen it in papers. The too-big ears and peculiar nose set him apart.

 

“Do you recognize the face of a traitor now?” he asked bitterly, looking away in disgust.

 

Upon hearing the word traitor, it clicked into place. She couldn't hide the awe in her voice.

 

“You're Ben Solo, the Marquess of Alderaan. Did you really go to France to try to take down Snoke and Napoleon? What was it like there as a spy?”

 

“I've done everything you've heard, and more. I fraternized with the enemy. I allowed brave British men to be killed, and I've killed others in duels. Why would you want to associate yourself with me? Don't you see?” he asked despairingly.

 

“I see only a brave man who did what he had to in order to do the right thing for his country,” she said as she pulled off her mask. “Thank you.”

 

“For what?” he asked, his voice growing higher.

 

“For taking this risk on me. I don't deserve you. I've done so much wrong in my own life, as you've seen and abetted. I had to, in order to pay off all the debts incurred by my family and friends. I hate doing it, but I was being threatened.”

 

There was no look of pity on her face. Just a simple statement of fact. It infuriated him to no end.

 

“Tell me who's threatening you. I'll destroy them all,” he said darkly, rising on his knees as his hands reached out protectively.

 

“No, Ben. Thanks to these parties, this last bit will free me from all the creditors. All my friends are free, and soon, I will be as well.”

 

“You'd never think about money again with me, a kriffing rich man,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

 

“Perhaps, but that's not why I'd agree to marry you.”

 

“Then what will?” he asked savagely, bending his head down into her lap. “Tell me. I'll give it to you. Anything. My whole life is yours. Just say you'll be mine.”

 

“I'm a nobody. An orphan from Cheapside, the daughter of a whore and an alcoholic. You couldn't possibly want me,” she denied, touching his black hair for the first time.

 

She had always been curious about his hair. It was just as soft as she imagined. She could run her fingers through it forever. 

 

“But I do want you. I don't care where you come from. If you can accept me, my family, and my past, then I want you all the more.”

 

She sighed, seeing the truth in his words. 

 

“Ben, there's only one thing I want from you, but you can't just give it away-"

 

His head shot up at once, his eyes growing tender as he gazed at her. He removed his jacket, leaving him in his shirt sleeves and a vest. 

 

“What's your name?”

 

“My name?”

 

“Yes. I told you mine. Please at least tell me that if you won't agree to anything else,” he pleaded.

 

He knelt again on both knees, his eyes taking in her green gown (her second-favorite gown, five seasons old), and the flowers in her hair and on her ears, the flowers both gifts from him.

 

“Rey,” she said finally.

 

He breathed in relief.

 

“Rey,” he breathed, testing it out.

 

She loved hearing it at once.

 

“Rey, I'm not sure when I fell in love with you over the past six months, but I have. I don't care who you are, or if I have to kill your creditors. Just give me a chance to prove I'm worthy of you.”

 

“You're more than worthy,” she said, her mind running wildly at the mention of love.

 

“Every day without you seems like a waste. Your independence, resourcefulness, and intelligence have won me over, and I want you more than anything else. Please do me the honor of becoming my wife, my better half.”

 

“The half that's better at lifting items?” she joked, a smile filling her joyful face.

 

“Perhaps. I'm willing to negotiate that,” he said with a wink. “Just don't tell anyone else about it.”

 

She nodded.

 

“You will?” he asked excitedly. 

 

“Yes, I will marry you, because I don't ever want to be without you,” she said happily.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
